


"Are you okay?" "Yes." (No.)

by SherlockiansFanFics (P0werToTheFandom)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, John Knows, POV Sherlock Holmes, Self Harming Sherlock, Sherlock Has Issues, Sherlock doesn't rely on Mycroft, Suicidal Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 19:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20680589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P0werToTheFandom/pseuds/SherlockiansFanFics
Summary: Sherlock asks John a question... One that he later regrets asking.Trigger warnings: Self Harm(referenced), Suicide and depression are discussed.





	1. Chapter one: Ending one

**Author's Note:**

> Two alternate endings. 
> 
> Chapter 1= ending one  
Chapter 2= ending two(same story different ending)
> 
> Trigger warning: Self harm(referenced), Suicide and depression disscussion.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the character. I do not claim to own anything sherlock or sherlock related.

"Sherlock, I'm here." John's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. If I were in my mind palace it wouldn't have worked. Luckily, I knew he was coming over today, and was able to keep that in mind before I went into my mind palace.

"John." I greet. "Glad to see you were able to make it." _My mind is foggy. The drugs don't help anymore, nicotine patches, smoking... none of it makes a difference anymore. I need to talk to John, maybe he knows what's wrong with me. I've felt this before, for a great part of my life actually, but I've never been able to figure it out. I never told Mycroft, because he is the worst possible person to talk to_ about_ anything._

"Yeah, umm... glad I could... make it..." He looks surprised. _Why? Did I miss something? I look over his appearance, normal clothes. No date by the looks of his attire, he is holding his shoulder stiffly, maybe it's giving him fits with this weather?_

"Tell me, John." I lean foreword towards him. "What causes feelings of nothingness, as if you are empty and nothing matters?" Watching his reaction carefully, I steeple my fingers and relax back into my chair.

"Umm... I would need more information but it sounds like some of the signs of depression." John looks confused.

"Depression." I close my eyes and think carefully. Now I have my answer.

"Like I said though, it could be anything... I would need more information." John sounds awkward. _Okay, maybe I don't have my answer._ I glance at the man for a moment.

"What more information would you need?" I close my eyes, ready to dive into my mind palace.

"Just more symptoms, er, if there are any thoughts of suicide, hurting yourself or anyone else... Sherlock are you asking because you feel like this?"

My mind registers the dread I feel. _Suicide. Not something I would want to discuss with John, but it is something I recognize. Hurting anyone, not my thing... hurt myself? That is another matter entirely._

"It's about a client of mine." The lie comes naturally. "I was unable to figure out why they felt as they do, thank you, John."

"Sherlock, I may not be a genius, but something isn't right." John crosses his arms. "Don't make me go to Mycroft."

"Ugh." A groan of disgust escapes me as I think about Mycroft and John talking about my 'depression'.

"Sherlock, have you thought about hurting anyone?"

"No." _Never anyone unless I have to._

"Have you thought about hurting yourself?"

"No." _Not since a few seconds ago._

"Have you thought about killing yourself?" I can hear John's voice shaking.

"No." _Not since this morning._

"Are you lying to me?" John's voice is quiet now, quiet as a whisper.

"No." _Yes_. Guilt pangs my heart as I realize that this is why no one ever wants to hang around me. I lie, and I lie, and I lie...

"Sherlock... would you tell me if you felt like that?"

"Yes." _No_. Just one more lie, just to make it though... he can never know the truth.

"Roll up your sleeves." His order causes me to open my eyes and stare at his in a mixture of shock and surprise.

"What?"

"Roll up your sleeves, if you aren't hurting yourself than there should be no issue doing so."

"John-"

"Now, Sherlock." John's eyes are watery.

"Why?" I become defensive.

"Because I'm having a bloody hard time believing you."

"I see that work isn't treating you well." I snap, using my only weapon against him. My brain. "More wrinkles and your shoulder is giving you fits."

"That's not going to work this time, Sherlock." John's face is twisted in anger.

"I assume you've been to busy for a date also." My voice is sharp.

"Roll. Up. Your. Fucking. Sleeves!" John takes a threatening step towards me.

"John-" I can't find a way out of this.

"Now!"

"I can't." I hiss. "John, please."

"Sherlock..." John breathes, all anger vanishing from his face. "How long?"

"I'm fine."

"No, no, you're not." He shakes his head and blinks rapidly. As if holding back tears. "You are not okay."

"I'm fine, John." I try to reassure the blond.

"Let me see how bad it is." John is choked up.

"I'm fine." Getting up from my chair, I leave the room, and a hurt John behind me.

_Breathe... Breathe... Breathe..._

My mind is racing in circles. I can't breath. My door is closed and I'm sitting on my bed trying to get a hold of myself.

_John just found out about... that... He's going to hate me, he's never going to talk to me again. What will I do without him?_

A soft knocking erupts from the door.

Who is it? What do they want? Just go away, please go away. Go away, go away, go away.

The door opens slowly and I see John standing there with a soft expression on his face.

"Sherlock, can I come in?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"Go away, John." My voice cracks.

"I heard about a new case." He doesn't enter, although he doesn't leave either.

"I'm busy." My nails dig into my palms as I desperately try to push down all emotion.

_I am a high functioning sociopath, I do not care. I am a high functioning sociopath... I do not care..._

"Lestrade could really use your help, Anderson and Donavan are on vacation so they won't be bothering you."

"Did Anderson's wife finally wise up to his games?"

"No, she's away with family..."

"What kind of case." Clearing my throat, I close my eyes. The door clicks shut and I feel a weight become present on the bed beside me.

"Sounds like a serial killer from what Lestrade told me." John's voice is still quiet.

"I suppose we could go..." Hesitantly, I open my eyes and look at the blond man that has saved my life to many times to count.

"Alright, you get your coat and I'll get a cab." His face sports a small smile and tired eyes. Slowly and deliberately he rises from the bed and starts out the door.

"John-" I call after him. He turns to look at me. "Thank you." A sense of vulnerability sets itself upon me. He just nods and leaves the room.

_Perhaps, perhaps we might be alright after all._

[Chapter two is an alternate ending, same story, different ending]


	2. Chapter two= Ending two(same story different ending)

"Sherlock, I'm here." John's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. If I were in my mind palace it wouldn't have worked. Luckily, I knew he was coming over today, and was able to keep that in mind before I went into my mind palace.

"John." I greet. "Glad to see you were able to make it." My mind is foggy. _The drugs don't help anymore, nicotine patches, smoking... none of it makes a difference anymore. I need to talk to John, maybe he knows what's wrong with me. I've felt this before, for a great part of my life actually, but I've never been able to figure it out. I never told Mycroft, because he is the worst possible person to talk to about anything._

"Yeah, umm... glad I could... make it..." He looks surprised. _Why? Did I miss something? I look over his appearance, normal clothes. No date by the looks of his attire, he is holding his shoulder stiffly, maybe it's giving him fits with this weather?_

"Tell me, John." I lean foreword towards him. "What causes feelings of nothingness, as if you are empty and nothing matters?" Watching his reaction carefully, I steeple my fingers and relax back into my chair.

"Umm... I would need more information but it sounds like some of the signs of depression." John looks confused.

"Depression." I close my eyes and think carefully. Now I have my answer.

"Like I said though, it could be anything... I would need more information." John sounds awkward. _Okay, maybe I don't have my answer_. I glance at the man for a moment.

"What more information would you need?" I close my eyes, ready to dive into my mind palace.

"Just more symptoms, er, if there are any thoughts of suicide, hurting yourself or anyone else... Sherlock are you asking because you feel like this?"

My mind registers the dread I feel. _Suicide. Not something I would want to discuss with John, but it is something I recognize. Hurting anyone, not my thing... hurt myself? That is another matter entirely._

"It's about a client of mine." The lie comes naturally. "I was unable to figure out why they felt as they do, thank you, John."

"Sherlock, I may not be a genius, but something isn't right." John crosses his arms. "Don't make me go to Mycroft."

"Ugh." A groan of disgust escapes me as I think about Mycroft and John talking about my 'depression'.

"Sherlock, have you thought about hurting anyone?"

"No." _Never anyone unless I have to._

"Have you thought about hurting yourself?"

"No." _Not since a few seconds ago._

"Have you thought about killing yourself?" I can hear John's voice shaking.

"No." _Not since this morning._

"Are you lying to me?" John's voice is quiet now, quiet as a whisper.

"No." _Yes._ Guilt pangs my heart as I realize that this is why no one ever wants to hang around me. I lie, and I lie, and I lie...

"Sherlock... would you tell me if you felt like that?"

"Yes." _No_. Just one more lie, just to make it though... he can never know the truth.

"Roll up your sleeves." His order causes me to open my eyes and stare at his in a mixture of shock and surprise.

"What?"

"Roll up your sleeves, if you aren't hurting yourself than there should be no issue doing so."

I quickly roll up my sleeves, exposing almost perfectly clean skin. There are a few scars from cases. But no self harm scars.

"Alright." John is satisfied. "I'm going to go make up a cuppa." John heads into the kitchen.

Once again, I steeple my fingers and dive back into my thoughts.

_"Rolls up your sleeves." _

_I did, you thought I was clean. It's a good things you didn't check my legs or sides._

**Author's Note:**

> Two endings: 
> 
> Chapter 1= Ending one  
Chapter 2= Same story different ending


End file.
